


Blinded By The Lights

by so_real



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Rave, Strangers, but not really youll see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/so_real/pseuds/so_real
Summary: 'Everything is pinks and reds and blues, music turning into light turning into bodies turning into white noise, making Seonghwa’s head spin to the beat of the bassline, his mind and body feeling like they’re on different planes of existence.And then he sees him.'ORthe one where Seonghwa and Hongjoong meet at a rave.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 135





	Blinded By The Lights

**Author's Note:**

> hey hey heyyy as usual, no excuse for this, just an idea Micka had and i had to write, enjoy!  
> as always thank you to my lovely beta who reads over everything and gives me the best insight
> 
> title is from Blinding Lights by The Weeknd

Neon lights blind Seonghwa as he treads through people, trying, and failing to find Wooyoung. He never should have let him convince him to come to this. The black leather of his pants sticks uncomfortably to his skin, and he thinks his shirt has popped a couple of buttons open since they arrived, but he tries not to think about it, or about how the dried glow in the dark paint is starting to become a tad too itchy on his face. Instead, he tries to focus on the crowd, to find a head of glowing lavender hair, but everything around him glows, which makes his search useless. Everyone has glowing neon hair, or clothes, or nails. Some of them directly have neon skin thanks to the same paint that covers Seonghwa’s cheeks and eyelids, and he’s starting to feel dizzy. Everything is pinks and reds and blues, music turning into light turning into bodies turning into white noise, making Seonghwa’s head spin to the beat of the bassline, his mind and body feeling like they’re on different planes of existence.

And then he sees him.

It’s almost like a dream, or like one of those scenes in movies. All the sounds around Seonghwa fade to a hum as his vision focuses on the single body in motion in front of him. White hair glowing like a burning halo around the prettiest features Seonghwa has ever seen-- wide, dark eyes outlined in neon green, delicate nose, lips glowing a dangerous orange that pulls Seonghwa in like a magnet. His crop top leaves practically nothing to the imagination, his torso and arms also covered in swirls of bright paint, and the shorts he’s wearing over his fishnets look almost too tight, but make his ass look spectacular.

He moves to the music, alone, looking lost in it, almost as if he is part of, and Seonghwa watches, mesmerized, for God knows how long, before the boy fixes his eyes on him and quirks an eyebrow, slow, deliberate, and inquisitorial, and Seonghwa knows an invitation when he sees one, so he lets the draw he’s been feeling pull him in until he’s right in front of the boy, noticing with pleasing surprise that he’s shorter than he’d thought.

The boy’s hands come to rest on Seonghwa’s chest, fingers playing with one of his open buttons as he brings himself up to talk directly in his ear.

“Like what you see?” he shouts over the music, lips brushing the shell of Seonghwa’s ear, and Seonghwa wonders if his lipstick will leave a stain.

Seonghwa lets his hands fall on the boy’s hips, pulling him closer, and he makes an appreciative sound, sliding his hands over his chest until they link behind his neck. “I think I like it better now.” 

The boy laughs, melodious and wonderful, and Seonghwa lets him guide them in an unrushed sway, bodies pressed together in a firm line. Seonghwa lets his hands roam up, encircling the boy’s waist and feeling his skin, soft and slightly sticky from sweat, a tingling feeling that travels from his fingertips to the very soles of his feet. At some point, the boy turns around in his arms, presses his back to Seonghwa’s front, keeping a hand behind his neck as the other wraps around Seonghwa’s wrist, making Seonghwa realize just how small his hands are, and the fact that his nails are painted an electric orange that matches his lips.

The boy’s head falls on his shoulder, and Seonghwa takes that as an invitation to nose under his jaw, taking in the scent of sweat and paint mixing with something faint and fruity that makes his head spin in the best kind of way. He lets his lips press to soft skin there, feels the boy’s Adam’s apple bob as he gulps, and can’t help the bolt of attraction that courses through him.

“Not here,” the boy says, and disentangles himself from Seonghwa only long enough to grab his hand and guide him through the crowd, Seonghwa’s mind zeroing on that one point of contact until he’s being pulled against a warm body again, hidden in a dark corner as the boy’s back rests against a wall and he tugs at Seonghwa’s hand until he’s pressed to his body again, almost like he’d missed him.

“Hi,” he says, smiling up at Seonghwa in a sweet yet teasing way. Seonghwa puts a hand on his hip and uses the other to cup his cheek.

“Hello,” he replies, leaning in close, but stopping just short. “This okay?”

The boy makes a noise, half surprise, half amusement. “So considerate,” he mutters, and Seonghwa feels his breath on his lips. “Yeah, c’mon.”

Seonghwa kisses him, not softly but not hard either, presses his lips against the boy’s in a firm but gentle way, swallowing the other’s sigh and tilting his head just a bit to make the slide of their mouths easier, smiling when the boy gets impatient and fists a hand on Seonghwa’s hair, tongue lapping against his lips in a silent but urgent demand that Seonghwa wouldn’t dream of denying him of. 

They kiss, open-mouthed and sloppy but oh so good, for what feels like a little eternity, Seonghwa’s hands exploring the boy’s torso as he licks into his mouth and lets out the prettiest, smallest sounds. He leaves the boy’s mouth at some point, latches his lips on the skin of his neck, leaving a trail of kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, and coming back up to suck under his ear, making the boy keen and buck his hips against Seonghwa’s.

“What-  _ fuck _ , what’s your name?” the boy asks in between gasps shortly after, and Seonghwa pulls back enough to look down at him and admire him for a moment.

“Seonghwa,” he tells him, reveling in the way his orange lipstick is smeared over his mouth, smiling when he realizes his own mouth is probably not better off. The boy nods. 

“Hongjoong,” he pants out, and it takes Seonghwa a second to realize he’s giving him his name.

“Lovely,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss him again, no tongue but all heat. “Make one of those pretty sounds again, Hongjoong,” he pleads against his lips, and Hongjoong does, throws his head back in a glorious whine that sends electricity down Seonghwa’s spine.

“Let me take you home with me,” he says, breathlessly, and Seonghwa distantly remembers that he was supposed to find Wooyoung like an hour ago, but he couldn’t care less right now.

He pulls away just enough to grin down at Hongjoong. “Lead the way.”

And Hongjoong smiles up at him, excitement and lust shining in his eyes. “Follow me.”

**Author's Note:**

> yo! find me on Twitter, bye!


End file.
